King Stag
by Cambrian Beckett
Summary: A smut-filled fix-it fic sort of story in which Robert is perhaps a little better of a man and thus a little better of a King. In which, sex and a not-so-small dose of Porn Logic makes everything better, rather than destroying everything. (Rated M for a reason!)
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story is already finished and stands at eight chapters long. If you want to read ahead, feel free to check it out on H*ntai-Foundry dot com or Questionable Questing dot com! Otherwise, enjoy!**

 **-x-X-x-**

To say Elia Martell is terrified would be an understatement. Is there any true way to describe a mother's fear for her children though? And it is her children she fears for, even if her own life is also on the line. Of course she fears death, any sane woman would in these circumstances, but she cares far more for the lives of her daughter and son then for her own at this point. She will gladly die so they may live, but given who she is and who they are, she fears that it will be impossible for her to lay her life down for them.

As a Martell, Elia knows she will probably be ransomed to Dorne by the Usurper and his Rebel allies, in order to properly quell any Dornish unrest. On the other hand, as two of the last Targaryens in existence, her children are a threat to the Usurper's claim to the Iron Throne. Elia can't see a world in which Robert Baratheon allows her Rhaenys and Aegon to live and that makes the beautiful woman's heart heavy with sorrow.

She walks with that heavy heart towards the throne room even now, surrounded on all sides by rebel soldiers. Perhaps if she had her children with her, she could draw strength from their presence, she could more properly plead for their lives. But no one expected the rebels to take and conquer King's Landing so swiftly. Elia was torn from her children by northern soldiers and taken to a gilded cage of a room in one of the Red Keep's towers.

She had not seen Rhaenys or Aegon in days. Were they already dead? Was she being taken to their execution in the throne room, where the Usurper would kill them in front of everyone as some sort of sick, twisted version of poetic justice? Aerys had enjoyed using the throne room as an execution chamber in these final years of his life. Would Robert do the same to the grandchildren of the dragon?

A sob escaped Elia's throat, but thankfully none of the men around her took note. She could cry in peace even as they kept their pace even with her own slow-moving steps. Finally though, her feet brought her to the throne room doors, no matter how long it took her to put one in front of the other. She stepped into the great hall and as she did so, Elia forcibly stopped her tears, wiped her face clean and held her head high as she walked inside.

Only to immediately lose any bit of composure she might have kept as she stared wide eyed, mouth agape at the Iron Throne. Robert Baratheon sat upon it of course, but that wasn't what shocked her. Elia's face was closely mirrored by much of the people in the great hall as everyone stared. Robert didn't seem to care, the Baratheon Lord focused solely on her children and pointedly ignoring everyone else.

In one arm, Robert Baratheon cradled her baby boy like he'd been carrying children all his life. The child was giggling up at him and constantly reaching for his beard as he chuckled and smiled back. Meanwhile, on his opposite leg sat her daughter. Rhaenys looked a lot more uncomfortable than Aegon, but all the same she had a tentative smile on her face as she and the Usurper conversed.

"So then, you like the flowers in the northern garden most of all? Perhaps you would like a room with a window facing it then, once you're old enough."

Rhaenys bobs her head up and down carefully, her tone quiet and reserved as she responds in a halting voice.

"I-I would like that very much… your Grace."

Elia doesn't know when she started moving again, but even as Robert chuckles, she realizes her steps are taking her further into the hall and more and more of the people watching from the wings are taking notice of her.

"Not quite yet my dear. For now, I'm still just a Lord. Jon and Ned are talking about putting a crown on my head though, so we'll see, won't we?"

Rhaenys just nods again, but Robert has already caught sight of Elia out of the corner of his eye. His face turns a bit more somber and he nudges Rhaenys even as he holds out her brother to her.

"Your mother is here sweetheart. Why don't you take your brother down to her for me."

Her daughter's head whips around and her eyes widen as she sees Elia. Her tentative smile blossoms into a brilliant, joyful thing and Elia can't help but smile back, even as Rhaenys does as the Usurper has told her, carefully holding Aegon in the way that Elia had taught her young daughter only weeks before. Moving slowly but also swiftly, Rhaenys makes her way to her mom. Her beautiful girl is barely more than a baby herself and yet she's so strong and responsible as she arrives at Elia's side and offers Aegon up.

Elia lets out a low sigh as she takes her son into her arms. Rhaenys quickly grabs onto her dress and curls into her side, but Elia's attention is focused on Robert Baratheon. The Usurper is staring back at her and Elia isn't sure whether she should stare back defiantly or bow her head in subservience. Which does he want to see? What will keep her children alive. She lowers her gaze, ultimately, but his voice sounds out a moment later and brings her eyes back up to meet his.

"Elia Martell. I hope you have been treated well."

A simple way to open the conversation, but one that gives her hope nonetheless. This whole situation is giving her hope that Elia fears will be dashed any second.

"I have been, Lord Baratheon."

There's some murmurs at that, as if she had committed some crime by calling the Usurper by his right and proper title. Normally, Elia would have said 'Your Grace' in order to appease the man sitting on the Iron Throne, but she heard what he said to Rhaenys and the Dornish beauty is not dim. As she expects, Robert smiles at her form of address. Then he's serious once more.

"Good. Down to business them. Children cannot speak for themselves. But their mother can. Aerys was dead before we arrived in the throne room, slain by Jaime Lannister and so he could not surrender the throne. It falls to you milady. On behalf of your children, will you surrender?"

Elia's legs are a little unsteady. Why would he need their surrender if he was just going to kill them? He means to keep them alive. Elia can scarcely believe it to be true, but it seems her hopes are not to be dashed after all.

"I… y-yes. We surrender. They surrender. My children relinquish all claim to the Iron Throne, now and forever more."

Robert is smiling again even as the hall erupts into murmurs. And yet, the moment the large, broad shouldered, muscular Lord stands, everyone falls silent. Robert is no longer looking at her as he gazes around the great hall, but Elia is certainly staring up at him.

"Until such time as you fuckers decide what you want to do with this bloody uncomfortable thing behind me, I name myself Regent of the Seven Kingdoms. You all decide you want someone else as your King later on, I'm fine with that. Lady Martell, bring your children and come sit at my side."

There is the usual chair for a Queen beside the Iron Throne, but Elia is frozen in shock for a moment at the offer. It takes Rhaenys tugging at her dress for her to come out of it and begin to move. Soon, she's settled into the small, far more comfortable chair. Rhaenys sits in her lap and she cradles Aegon in one arm as they watch the proceedings. Robert makes they're settled and then turns back to the hall.

"Tywin Lannister! Step forward!"

Elia stares as the Lord Paramount moves out of the crowd and stands in the center of the great hall. Why is he free and not in chains? The Lannisters served the Targaryens… and yet, Jaime Lannister had killed Aerys had he not? Elia's eyes widen in sudden confusion, but Robert's next words clear things up for her in a horrifying way.

"Lord Paramount. You claim that the army you have outside the city walls was meant for our cause. That you planned to betray the Mad King's trust, gain access to the city through your perceived false loyalties, and conquer the place in my name."

Tywin inclines his head.

"Indeed, Lord Regent. We marched the moment we heard about your victory at the Battle of the Trident. My son-."

"Your son is a Kingslayer."

Robert ruthlessly cuts the Lannister Lord off and Elia stiffens at his side as Tywin mirrors her action down below. After a moment though, Robert continued.

"He is also a hero to every living soul in this city. I have spoken with Jaime Lannister myself and I have seen the proof of Aerys' final act with my own eyes. Your son killed the King because in my haste to finish this war and take King's Landing, I sparked the final fuse of Aerys' madness. The Mad King had the Pyromancer's Guild making wildfire for the last several years, long before all of Rhaegar's nonsense began. There are thousands of jars of the stuff, all over the city. Aerys' last words were 'Burn them all' and they were directed towards the Head Pyromancer, moments before your son ran the King and his Hand through with his sword."

The great hall is dead silent as everyone digests their new Regent's words. Tywin is the first to recover, but the man's surprise seems genuine enough for Jaime's words to be true. And if Robert has seen the wildfire himself… Elia is more than a little horrified at how close they all came to a death of burning green.

"In that case… if my son is a hero as you claim, I would ask a boon of you."

"No."

Tywin's eyes widen in outrage.

"You don't even kno-!"

"You wish for me to release your son from his oaths so that he may take his place as your heir. I am not a stupid man Lord Lannister. The Lannisters fought for the dragon in this war and the dragon lost. I would be within my rights to destroy your House, but I am tired of death and bloodshed so I will not. But you must prove your loyalty. You will go to Storm's End and rein in the Tyrells. End the siege and see my brothers brought safely to King's Landing… then we will talk of your son's future."

Gritting his teeth, Tywin can do nothing but bow and depart from the hall. Everyone watches him go and then turns back to the man sitting upon the Iron Throne. Many are regarding him with new eyes. Elia knows that she is.

"Ned, where are you?"

Robert's bellow fills the hall and soon enough, Eddard Stark is standing before them. Robert doesn't waste any time with niceties though.

"How many men Ned? How many men do you need to get to Lyanna quickly, but also to take down those damn bastards guarding her. The fucking Sword of the Morning isn't a joke."

The young Northern Lord pauses for a second and thinks on it, nodding in agreement with Robert.

"… A hundred."

"A hundred it is! A hundred of our best! Find your sister Ned and bring her home."

There's a moment where Eddard Stark swallows thickly. Elia can see him getting choked up, but in the end, he just nods his head and departs even faster than Tywin did. Letting out a sigh, Robert Baratheon leans back in the Iron Throne and then tenses up and curses quietly as he pricks himself on a sharp edge. Standing up, the suddenly gruff Regent waves a hand at the hall.

"I'm done, get out of here!"

And then the Usurper walks away and all Elia can think is 'that man is going to end up being King'. There's no doubt in her mind… and even with her children safe, the Dornish beauty isn't sure what the future will hold. What better protection for her and her babies then the new King?

-x-X-x-

Robert steps into his bedroom, tired after such a long day. He closes the door and locks it, then turns around, already in the process of beginning to remove his clothes when he finally looked up and saw her. The Baratheon Lord's eyes go wide as he stares at Elia Martell, standing beside his bed, completely naked. The beautiful dark-skinned woman smiles at him tentatively and takes a step forward.

"Do you like what you see, Lord Regent?"

His mouth is dry as she gets closer and closer. Robert's cock is swiftly rising, straining in his pants… but Lyanna… Lyanna might come back to him. He might marry her and if they make him King as they keep suggesting, he'll make her his Queen. Still… he's not married yet, right? And Robert is nothing if not a weak man when it comes to beautiful women. His biggest weakness. Yet he has at least somewhat of a chivalrous heart. Just enough of one to ask the question a single time.

"I do… but are you sure about this Lady Martell?"

When he asks that, he means it and from the way she stops moving and tenses up, he knows she knows it. For a brief second Elia looks conflicted and Robert prepares himself for her backpedaling. He's even okay with it, despite her behavior. But in the end, she seems to steel herself and continue moving forward. Her lady-like fingers touch him and she begins to pull his garments off one by one. Their eyes meet and he stays silent even as she leans up on her tip toes to try to kiss him. Even then, he has to lean forward in the end to offer his lips to her.

They kiss for several long seconds, Elia's frail naked body pressed up against his hairy chest, her soft breasts brushing along his front and her hands working now at his breeches. When she finally puts her fingers around his cock, she freezes up again and Robert pulls back, smirking slightly. Elia's eyes are wide as she glances between his face and then down his pants.

"I'll ask once more. Are you sure about this Lady Martell? You can ride a dragon. But you cannot ride a stag."

Swallowing thickly and licking her lips, Elia pulls his hardened member out of his pants and stares down at it in its full, hard glory. The words fall from her lips in a whisper, but Robert hears them nonetheless.

"I'm sure…"

With a grunt, the Baratheon Lord grabs up the naked Dornish woman, prompting a yelp from her as he carries her over to the bed and lays her down surprisingly gently. Then he's on top of her, spreading her legs, running his fingers up and down her slit. To her shame, she's already wet and eager and Robert takes advantage of this, pushing into her with his shaft in short order. He's bigger than anything Elia has already taken and soon enough, the dusky beauty is crying out as he begins to fuck her with long, powerful thrusts.

His massive hammer is absolutely wrecking her composure. Her first orgasm makes things easier though, slickening her loosened passage even more. Her second is just icing on the cake though and by the third orgasm, Elia's eyes are wide and she's afraid she's going to fall in love with this man as he treats her in the same instance as both a delicate princess and a wanton whore.

He is powerful and domineering and strong and all she can do is lay back and take it, holding on for dear life along the way as the constant orgasms he forces from her inexperienced body threaten to undue her very sanity. Robert himself is reveling in the Dornish beauty's tightness. She is the first of her people he's ever had, despite being rather infamous as a whoremonger.

Robert worries that he won't be able to stop now that he's started. He loves Lyanna with all his heart and if Ned returns with her in a condition to be wed, he intends to marry her. But this Elia Martell… beyond fucking the wife of the man who stole his betrothed, which to be fair is pure catharsis in and of itself, Robert finds himself enjoying Elia for who she is, rather than WHAT she is. The woman is deliciously fuckable and Robert loses himself in her all-night long.

So lost in their pleasure, neither of them even notice or comment on the fact that Robert deposits more than one load of seed inside of Elia's womb before their night together is over.

 **-x-X-x-**

 **If you'd like to read more of my work not seen on this website, check out H entai-Foundry dot com and Questionable Questing dot com! I'm known as 'Cambrian' on those websites.**

 **If you'd like to contribute to funding my writing at all, check me out on P atreon. com (slash) Cambrian**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

The throne room is silent as those in attendance shift from foot to foot, staring and waiting for the new King to speak. In the time that had passed since they'd taken King's Landing, the Baratheon Lord had indeed become King. And so, Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm sat upon the Iron Throne, presumably in judgment of those that stood, or knelt before him.

Robert couldn't help but frown. Did they think he would react poorly? Had he not spared Elia and Rhaegar's children? Perhaps it was different in their eyes, because now it was Lyanna. A grimace spreads across the bearded, broad-shouldered King's face. Lyanna had a look of defiance in her eyes that he was not unfamiliar with, as she held her beautiful baby boy in her arms.

Aemon Targaryen, the last of Rhaegar's seed, looks nothing like a Targaryen, even if their blood does run through his veins. Instead, he is Northerner through and through, with a few strands of black hair atop his head and the darkest grey in his eyes that Robert has ever seen. Aemon is beautiful and if he didn't think it would be taken poorly by all sides involved, Robert would have accepted the boy as his own.

Off to the side, Ned stands alongside Ashara Dayne. The beautiful young woman is also holding a babe in her arms, a daughter that had been introduced as Lyarra. Ned's daughter… Robert doesn't envy his friend for the shitstorm that will no doubt follow when he returns to Winterfell with the woman and child at his side… but at least it won't be Robert's problem.

No, Robert's problem is the kneeling Kingsguard chained and bound at the feet of Ned's men. Not a single of the hundred that Robert had sent along with the Stark man had died. With such overwhelming numbers and no hope of victory, the Kingsguard had surrendered. Even now though, Robert could tell that none of them were happy about it.

They were waiting for a response from him though. He'd already let the silence stretch on for far too long. Slowly, with the strength of his body only more pronounced by him taking his time with his movements, Robert stands up, the weight of his crown heavy on his head. They think him a monster… he will simply have to continue showing everyone that they're wrong.

"None in this court have reason to be guilty on this day. No, the shame lies with another, a man dead and broken, the rubies on his breastplate scattered across the bed of the Trident."

There is some murmuring and some stiffening and some eye-widening as people begin to realize who Robert is talking about, but the newly crowned King soldiers on.

"Rhaegar Targaryen was a kidnapper and a rapist! Neither Lyanna Stark nor her child will shoulder HIS crimes, or the crimes of his father, who was a murderer and a mad man! The Targaryen Dynasty is over, but House Targaryen need not die out. Ned!"

The young Lord of Winterfell steps forward, perhaps the only one who hadn't looked at him as if he was about to do something monstrous. Robert's lifelong friend has a smile on his face as he bows his head.

"Your Grace."

"Piss on that Ned, I'm still bloody Robert to you, I don't care where the hell we are! Ned, I would have you give your nephew a Lordship in the North when he is of age, if you think it best. And I would marry him to my daughter, Mya Baratheon, when that time comes."

The latter part is met with some shock. Robert has just legitimized his bastard daughter before the court in a rather casual manner, but given he is King and it is in his purview to legitimize bastards, there's nothing technically wrong with what he's doing. Ned seems to consider for a moment, glancing to his sister before smiling even wider.

"I would be glad to take Aemon as one of my bannermen when the time comes. And I agree to the match because him and your daughter."

Lyanna looks just a tad shell-shocked as Robert slowly descends from the dais upon which the Iron Throne is sat. He strides across the throne room to where she stands with purpose, pulling up right in front of them. Leaning down, he reaches out tenderly and give the curious babe a jolly smile. Aemon's dark grey eyes look back at him, wide and unblinking, but when Robert offers his finger, the baby boy reaches for it and curls his small hand around it, squeezing.

It's a moment of gentle kindness that the new King would prefer to happen in privacy, but given his status, Robert doesn't expect to ever have privacy again. Still, he does his best to block out the people all around them as he smiles at Lyanna.

"He's got a strong grip my Lady."

For the first time since she's arrived, the defiance and anger is gone, replaced by a slightly bewildered smile as the she-wolf responds in an uncharacteristically soft manner.

"… Thank you, your grace."

It feels like the right time. Robert extracts his finger from baby Aemon's hand and drops down on one knee, right then and there on the floor of the throne room. On bended knee, he takes a dumbstruck Lyanna's hand in his own and tenderly kisses her knuckles with his lips. Due to his height, Robert is almost eye level with the baby in Lyanna's arms anyways, but he focuses his gaze on his beloved as he speaks.

"Lyanna Stark, I would have it form your lips and no other's. Will you consent to marry me?"

Her light grey eyes fill with tears, but the smile stays on her face as she bites her lower lip and nods.

"I-I will."

And like that, the atmosphere becomes one of celebration and levity as Robert whoops and stands, pulling both his beloved and her babe into his arms and lifting them clear off the ground as he spins them around. There is much cheering and much rejoicing to be had, but in the end it comes to a close far too soon, as there is one more bit of business that must be handled here and now.

Lyanna and Aemon end up off to the side of the Iron Throne as Robert once again sits down. The three Kingsguard are pushed forward, front and center. Looking upon them, Robert feels regret more than anything else regarding these three knights.

"Lord Commander Hightower. Ser Dayne. Ser Whent. Your King is dead, as is your Prince. I will not ask you to bend the knee. Instead, I beseech you to accept the Black. Go to the Wall and live out your remaining days as brothers of the Night's Watch. What say you?"

There is a moment of silence as the knights glare at him. For a second, Robert thinks he's about to get three refusals. However, Arthur Dayne's eyes dart to his sister at the last moment and then he bows his head.

"… I accept."

The Lord Commander and Oswell Whent glance to him in shock. After a moment, Ser Whent follows suit.

"As do I."

"I shall not."

The White Bull's voice is solid and unmoving and where his fellow knights have lowered their heads in supplication, his remains held high, his eyes attempting to pierce into Robert's mind from the looks of things. The newly crowned King only feels sadness as he regards the honorable knight. He lets out a short sigh and nods his head, waving a hand in dismissal.

"Tomorrow then, at first light."

It's all he needs to say. Tomorrow at first light, Robert Baratheon, First of His Name will execute Lord Commander Gerold Hightower. At the same time, Ser Dayne and Ser Whent will begin their long journey North, to the Wall. In the end, it is the best Robert can do for the three men. Part of him still blames them for the part they played in Rhaegar's defilement of his Lyanna, but ultimately he knows they were merely doing their duty as members of the Kingsguard. Their oaths bound them to a mad king and a rapist. Hopefully their lives as brothers of the Night's Watch will allow them to regain their lost honor.

And with that, court is dismissed. Everyone is off to do their own thing and Robert, as King, has plenty of work to do before he can rest. This day will be the same as the last, long and hard… and now that Lyanna is here, he dares not ease his stress on Elia Martell, as he's been doing for the last two months…

-x-X-x-

"My Princess, it is so good to see you."

Elia smiles as she and her former lady-in-waiting hug.

"It is good to see you too Ashara, but please, call me Elia. We are that close, are we not?"

Ashara Dayne smiles brilliantly, the beautiful young woman inclining her head.

"It is as you say Elia."

The duskier Dornish woman lets out an explosive sigh and sits down heavily on the bed beside them. Blinking, Ashara does the same after a moment.

"What is the matter?"

Pressing her lips tightly together, Elia looks down into her lap and the palms of her hands.

"I fear I've made a grave mistake, and endangered the fragile new peace of the realm. After such a damaging war… I was not in my right mind Ashara, you must understand."

Ashara furrows her brow in confusion.

"Please Elia, we are friends, yes? Speak plainly."

The Princess swallows convulsively and nods. Then the words flow out of her.

"I seduced Robert Baratheon my friend. I snuck into his bed naked and I convinced him to lay with me. I thought… I thought that I would take revenge for myself against Rhaegar's memories. I-I thought I was keeping my children safe by staying in his good graces. But now we have been having sex every night for the last two months and I find myself with child once more, as unbelievable as it seems."

Ashara's violet eyes are wide, her mouth agape. Elia has just dropped the biggest bombshell she could on her, and for a moment, the Lady Dayne does not know how to respond. In the end, she does not have to.

"You WHAT?!"

Both highborn women look up with startled eyes at the open doorway to the room where Lyanna Stark stands with anger in her grey gaze. The she-wolf stalks into the room and after spending two months traveling with the Stark woman, Ashara wants to be anywhere BUT here. And perhaps it is a little cowardly… but she takes the opportunity as Elia freezes up to slip out.

"… I'll leave the two of you to talk."

And then she's gone, even as Elia rises to meet an advancing Lyanna, lips pressed tightly together.

"You frigid bitch! You couldn't keep one husband and now you're aiming to steal another!"

Elia's wide eyes grow wider still, but this time it is in anger as her initial shame and guilt are washed away by the insult. Despite being known as frail and soft-spoken, having Robert treat her like a real woman these past two months has emboldened the beautiful Dornish Princess. Her hackles rise as she goes from on the defensive to aggressive in a split second.

"Funny, coming from the silly, stupid little girl who couldn't keep her hands off a married man! You ended up burned and now you're desperate to make it back into the arms of the man you abandoned in the first place!"

Lyanna's grey eyes go just as wide as her nostrils flare in furry, then there's a loud smacking sound as she slaps Elia, and the Dornish woman gasps at the sudden stinging sensation on her face. They look at each other for a moment Elia with indignation in her eyes and Lyanna with a look of smug satisfaction on her face.

And then the smacking sound is repeated as Elia in turn slaps Lyanna across the face, and their expressions are reversed. Lyanna's gasp swiftly turns into a snarl and a moment later the she-wolf launches herself at Elia. In reply, the Dornish woman lifts her arms, ready to fight like savages, if that's what Lyanna wants. Neither woman is in their right mind, but as it turns out, Ashara happened across the one man who could have gotten through to either at this point.

"Lyanna! Elia! What are you two doing?!"

Now it's Robert Baratheon standing in the doorway, as both women whirl to face him in surprise. They look to each other and Lyanna finds herself not at all liking the wicked glint that she sees appear on Elia's eye. She's not about to lose to the other woman… not in this.

 **-x-X-x-**

 **If you'd like to read more of my work not seen on this website, check out H entai-Foundry dot com and Questionable Questing dot com! I'm known as 'Cambrian' on those websites.**

 **If you'd like to contribute to funding my writing at all, check me out on P atreon. com (slash) Cambrian**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

Robert is left more than a little blindsided by what happens next. He's just come into the room as Elia and Lyanna hit each other, and he's barreling forward to put himself between both women, even as he calls out to them.

But before he can get halfway across the room, Elia has completely disengaged from the Stark woman in order to intercept him, and Robert's eyes go wide in surprise as the beautiful, more mature Dornish woman lays her lips upon his, moving up onto her tip toes to kiss him deeply and passionately. Given what they've been doing, Robert doesn't resist, though to his credit, he also doesn't take her in his arms and reciprocate, not in front of his soon to be wife.

When Elia eventually pulls back, there's a triumphant look in her eye and Robert stares at her, stunned. Then, Lyanna is there, pushing the older woman aside and grabbing him by his shirt to drag him down to her level. She kisses him just as hard as Elia, with a level of ferociousness that the Dornish woman just couldn't match. However, there's an inexperience to Lyanna's attempt at kissing that speaks to just how young the Stark girl is in comparison to her 'rival'.

Robert finds himself reaching out to the love of his life, his beautiful she-wolf. His hands slide along her waist and cup her firm ass as he kisses her back, taking charge and pushing his tongue down her throat. Lyanna moans and melts into his grasp for a time, allowing him to teach her how to properly kiss a King. The two makeout for what feels like forever, until suddenly Robert's pants are being pulled down and he disengages from the Stark woman to find Elia has decided to take matters into her own hands, quite literally.

As her lips suction down around his length and she strokes the bottom half of his cock, Robert's eyes go crossed from the sheer pleasure of having Princess Elia Martell of Dorne giving him a blowjob. The more experienced woman is no slouch when it comes to cock-sucking, and when Lyanna sees what her rival is doing, she growls and reaches up to tear her clothes off, revealing her pale, curvaceous body. Specifically, her breasts.

Doing her best to one-up the kneeling Dornish woman, Lyanna grabs hold of one of Robert's wrists and drags that hand up to her chest. Then, she goes back for another long kiss, which Robert is more than happy to return. In this moment, the Baratheon King has a Dornish Princess on her knees, sucking him off, and a Stark Lady pressed against his side, one hand on her tit and the other on her ass as he sticks his tongue down her throat.

… Robert may not really understand what's going on, but he's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. In this moment, both of these women want him… and he would be a liar if he tried to say he didn't want both of them. The newly crowned King continues to molest Lyanna's beautiful body, kissing her deeply all while Elia buries her nose in his pubes and presses her lips to the base of his cock.

The Dornish woman is swallows his length down her throat like a champ, her neck flexing and spasming and clenching along his shaft. His eyelids are fluttering from the experience, the pleasure almost causing even his tree-trunk legs to nearly buckle. In the end, he's unable to hold back for very long. His release comes fast and hard, and his seed sprays down Elia's throat. To her credit, the dark-skinned beauty drinks every last drop of it down without spilling even a bit from her lips.

When she pulls back, Robert pulls away from Lyanna as well. He takes a step to the side from both women, and they look at him with hunger in their eyes as he looks back, his own eyes glancing between the pair. He's going to fuck them… he's going to fuck them both. The only question is, who does he start with? In the end, the answer is rather simple, isn't it? Elia had just had the privilege of sucking him off… and Lyanna was flushed red with arousal, panting heavily, her full lips parted in a way that only entices him.

Elia looks on with a slight smirk and a bit of disappointment as Lyanna squeals when he grabs her up and lifts her over his shoulder. A moment later, the half-naked Stark girl is on the bed face down, her hips sliding up into the air as her knees push up underneath her almost instinctively. Robert grunts in appreciation and flips up the back of Lyanna's dress, exposing her shapely ass and form-fitting smallclothes. Those are pulled off of her in a second, and with her moist cunt exposed to him, Robert simply can't hold back anymore.

Kneeling behind her, the Baratheon King buries his face in Lyanna's dripping mound, his tongue driving deep into her as he grabs hold of her ass with both hands and grips and kneads it to his heart's content. The pale she-wolf gasps in surprise and delight, and Elia giggles as Lyanna experiences the exact same mind-blowing pleasure that she too had come to desire with all her heart from the surprisingly giving King.

As Robert eats out his bride-to-be, Elia stands and strips down to nothing, before crawling onto the bed as well. Her feminine fingers and smooth palms close around Robert's shaft, and she strokes his half-soft member back to full length and full stiffness, even as Robert drives Lyanna towards an explosive first orgasm. By the time the pale Stark girl is cumming all over Robert's face, her pussy juices squirting out of her and onto his cheeks and his lips, Elia has the King once more hard, his shaft throbbing and pulsating with need.

His face covered in Lyanna's release, Robert is all smiles as he finally pulls up and properly kneels behind his bride to be. Lyanna looks back over her shoulder, her face a mask of chagrin at the fact that he'd stopped, but then she sees his massive cock being brought to bear on her from behind. He slaps his meat log down on her firm ass for a moment, rubbing his shaft between her butt cheeks… then, he pulls back and fits the thick head of his cock into the entrance of Lyanna's cunt.

The she-wolf's mouth opens up, but what she might say is lost forever, as Robert thrusts forward and any comprehensible words are replaced by a cry of sheer pleasure. Another orgasm hits Lyanna right on the spot, and Elia watches on with a gleeful grin on her face as the younger woman is shown the pleasures of Robert's woman-breaking phallus.

His cock was an instrument of mind-numbing ferocity, and though Lyanna is no more a virgin that Elia was when the Baratheon King first took HER, both of them now know the same simple truth… one did not truly get FUCKED, until they were penetrated by Robert Baratheon's shaft. The difference between him and Rhaegar was… considerable.

As Lyanna's mouth stays open and her eyes flutter from the sheer pleasure of Robert plowing her from behind, Elia crawls across the bed, coming to a stop before the Stark girl. Despite their earlier spat, the Dornish Princess knows one thing to be a fact. If she wants to stay in King's Landing, if she wants to stay in the Royal Court, and more importantly if she wants to stay in Robert's Bed, she has to stay on Lyanna's good side.

Or, more accurately, she has to GET there in the first place, given she's currently on the she-wolf's shit-list. So, pushing down the urge to force Robert's future Queen to eat her out, Elia instead goes for a… softer approach. While she probably could dominate Lyanna into licking her cunt in this moment if she decided to, it was unlikely to ingratiate her to the younger woman moving forward. This was not a girl who was inherently submissive, and after all was said and done, Lyanna would resent, more than love Elia trying to control and dominate her.

So instead, the Dornish MILF grabs Lyanna by the face, lifts her head up off the bed, and sticks her tongue right down the Stark girl's throat. She watches as Lyanna's grey eyes go wide in shock, but she doesn't stop. And sure enough, the other woman is soon kissing her back, even as Robert continues to fuck the ever living shit out of her cunt. Lyanna's entire body is jarred forward into Elia with each thrust, but the Dornish woman simply holds her steady, and continues to kiss the she-wolf for all she's worth.

This continues for a while, Lyanna moaning her repeated orgasms out into Elia's mouth, and Elia in turn helping those orgasms along with her hands sliding down the pale girl's body and her lips and tongue teasing Lyanna's mouth. In the end though, the Stark woman is tight and wet, and Elia knows from experience that Robert doesn't last overly long inside a cunt as good as Lyanna's is bound to be. With a growl and a shout, the Baratheon King finally cums, filling his bride to be up with a large load of his seed. His release takes a full minute, and Lyanna climaxes right alongside him as he paints her womb white.

Finally, it comes to an end and Robert pulls out, a pleased smile on his face as he gropes and kneads both of Lyanna's ass cheeks for a long moment, simply seeming to enjoy the shapely behind in front of him. Elia pulls back and smiles as she observes Lyanna's slack jaw and glazed over eyes. She pulls the girl away from Robert after a moment, and lays the she-wolf out at the head of the bed, bringing her to rest on a pillow. In mere moments, Lyanna is asleep and Robert is frowning, but with an understanding look in his eyes. Elia just grins, even as she looks to the King, her own naked body fully on display.

Rather than crawl to him, Elia slips onto her back and reaches down to grab her ankles as they come up. The Dornish woman displays the full range of her flexibility as she leans back and pulls her legs up behind her head, exposing her sopping wet cunt… and more importantly, her cleaned, lightly scented asshole. The King stares for a long moment at her puckered sphincter as her shapely, dusky behind spreads open in this new position… then, Robert is moving forward, his member growing hard again right there on the spot.

She's all nice and slick thanks to her preparations, so when Robert pushes his cockhead against her back door, it slips right in, sucked and held in place by her clenching sphincter. Elia gasps happily, even as Lyanna sleeps peacefully beside the two of them. Leaning in, Robert grabs a fist full of the Dornish MILF's dark hair, pulling her head up and kissing her deeply. Elia kisses him back, their tongues wrestling together as inch after inch of his thick prick disappears inside of her anus.

The going gets rough about halfway in though, and Elia groans into Robert's lips as he reaches the part of her that has not yet been explored by anything before his cock. The King is not one to be denied though, and with a grunt and a growl, Robert pulls out partially, only to slam home into her all the harsher. Elia cries out this time, the sound lost as their tongues wrestle together, and Robert pulls back to do it again.

He's fucking her now, fucking her ass. But that's fine by her, in fact, now that she knows she's pregnant with his child, Elia would prefer that Robert use her back door or her mouth. Rhaegar had never understood the concept of sex for fun, and he'd turned her away when she'd tried to show him Dornish delights. Their intimacy had been solely about making children, and in the end Elia felt that THAT was what had made her so weak and frail. There was no joy, no LOVE in their 'lovemaking'. There was in this though.

At this point, Elia loved the Baratheon King more than she thought she ever would. Robert was twice, nay, ten times the man Rhaegar had been, in every possible way. She would never have guessed that a Stag could so easily surpass a Dragon, but when the Stag was a virile, strong, caring man like Robert Baratheon, and the Dragon was a weak, mentally ill, callous man like Rhaegar Targaryen… well, Elia supposed she had her answer.

Moaning now into Robert's mouth, the Dornish woman climaxes around his cock as he continues to plunder her bowels, the man's thrusts becoming more and more fluid as he gains the measure of her back door and begins to truly give her a deep, thorough, butt-pounding. It's been too long since Elia took it up the ass. She's glad to be doing so again, especially from Robert himself.

Orgasm after orgasm ripples through her body as he continues to plow her, and in the end, Elia turns out the same as her darling, pale counterpart. Robert seeds her finally, and when he pulls away she flops down beside Lyanna, cum flowing out of her the same as the pale she-wolf, just from a different hole. Looking up through glazed over eyes at the King, she can't help but grin tiredly as she sees Robert's own satisfied smirk. The Stag is so very proud of himself… but in the end, he has every reason to be, at least in her opinion.

She falls asleep moments later, and when she wakes up she finds herself on Lyanna's arms, with Robert nowhere to be found. The she-wolf is just waking up as well, sun creeping in through the open window of the room. A wicked grin spreads across Elia's face, and she leans in to kiss the pale Stark girl right on the lips. Much to her satisfaction, Lyanna responds by kissing her back, sleepily mind you, but she still does it.

And by the time the Stark girl realizes just who she's in bed with and just who she's kissing, Elia has two fingers pistoning in and out of her cunt expertly, an orgasm swiftly approaching for the Queen to be. Oh yes, the Dornish Princess has no intention of alienating the one woman who might ruin her time in King's Landing.

They might have gotten off on the right foot… but now they're going to be the best of friends, if Elia has anything to say about it.

 **-x-X-x-**

 **If you'd like to read more of my work not seen on this website, check out H entai-Foundry dot com and Questionable Questing dot com! I'm known as 'Cambrian' on those websites.**

 **If you'd like to contribute to funding my writing at all, check me out on P atreon. com (slash) Cambrian**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

Everything was going so well… until they arrived at Winterfell. Ashara Dayne had had no illusions about just what she was walking into, mostly thanks to Ned giving her ample forewarning. Ned Stark… the new Lord of Winterfell was an honorable man, to be sure. So was his friend, their new King. There were so many ways things could have ended poorly with Robert's Rebellion, but instead the world seemed to almost right itself, putting all the right men in charge so that most could have their happy endings.

With her brother going to the Wall and her having given birth to Ned's child, it made sense to go to Winterfell. There was nowhere else for her and the baby, and luckily, Winterfell's new Lord thought so too. Ned Stark was too honorable to abandon his child. More than that… he loved her, or so Ashara hoped, because in truth, she loved him too. The young man was everything she'd ever wanted in a husband… but given he was already married to Catelyn Tully, Ashara still wasn't entirely sure that she could expect a marriage at this point.

Still, the beautiful young Dayne had a plan. Even as Winterfell came into view and the greeting party was slowly revealed, Ashara cradled her daughter in her arms, and waited for what was to come. It didn't take long of course. Catelyn Stark came into view and while she had a smile on her face at first upon laying eyes on Ned, it died when her gaze moved onto Ashara, mounted on her own horse beside him as she was.

Both women were carrying bundles in their arms, even as their eyes met. Ashara tried not to seem confrontational or aggressive. She didn't glare at the other woman, nor did she stare her down. No, instead the girl went for a hesitant smile, even as she shifted her daughter in her arms to make sure she still had a good hold on the baby.

In response, Catelyn Stark's gaze turns frosty. Her smile disappears and her expression shutters as she goes utterly still. Things proceed, and Ned dismounts first as he steps towards his Lady Wife… the woman he'd never actually wanted. In return, Catelyn steps up to present his son to him, his firstborn that he'd only ever heard about in letters and second-hand hearsay.

Ashara tries to feel happiness for the love of her life, even as he lights up with happiness over the baby boy that Catelyn Stark hands him. She reminds herself that it's better she only had a daughter, as there's no concerns over inheritance when it's a simple boy and girl situation. Any children she gives birth to from this point on… IF she gives birth to any from this point on, will be too young to challenge Catelyn's baby.

Of course, the Lady Stark proves herself to be quite… frosty, even after a lifetime in the Riverlands and only a few months up in the North. As soon as Ned has a good hold on his newborn son, Catelyn turns and walks away, striding back into the castle behind her without so much as a look back. The bright, wide smile on Ned's face immediately turns into a hurt frown, and Ashara's heart aches, even as she dismounts as well, standing off to the side with her own baby still in her arms.

There is unrest in Winterfell, and as she looks around and sees several people staring at her in undisguised dislike, Ashara knows that SHE is the cause of it. And there's only one way to fix what she's caused, only one person she has to convince that she belongs. Not for her own sake, but for the sake of her daughter. She will not have her beautiful Lyarra treated like a servant by her siblings as the girl grows up.

Ashara knows what she has to do. And as a Dornish… she doesn't expect it to be very difficult.

-x-X-x-

Catelyn stiffens when her visitor is announced to her. Part of her wants to say no right then and there. To say the young woman is hurt by her new husband's choice would be an understatement. She is almost beside herself with anger, furious that he would dare to bring not only his bastard daughter back from the war, but also the woman that he beget her from.

Still, it would be the height of impropriety to deny Ashara Dayne an audience. Regardless of what the whore had done, she was still technically a noblewoman. They were of similar rank, or had been before she became Lady of Winterfell. In the end… there was only one choice left to her, forced upon her by her own code of conduct.

"See her in."

The beautiful, violet-eyed girl is ushered in a moment later, and Catelyn can't help but stiffen in her presence. It would be easier of Ashara were ugly. It would be easier if Catelyn could truly believe Eddard when the man said that he'd brought Ashara back with him out of a sense of duty, instead of a sense of lust as all men with a cock between their legs experienced. And Catelyn could certainly vouch for the member between Ned's legs. Her darling Robb was proof of that.

Still, as she sits there on her bed, staring at her one true foe for her own husband's affections, Catelyn can't help the frosty tone.

"What do you want?"

Ashara winces and Catelyn feels a stab of satisfaction deep down inside, though she keeps the smirk from her face.

"I wish… I wish to reach an understanding with you, Lady Stark."

It is good to hear her title from the other woman's mouth, but Catelyn isn't fooled for a second.

"I have a good enough understanding of you already, Ashara Dayne. I understand that you seek to steal my husband from me. I understand that you seek to steal my entire life from me!"

By the time she's finished, Catelyn is a bit flustered, and slightly out of breath. She's come up off the bed, and she feels almost ready to lunge at the other woman. Suddenly though, Ashara is there, taking her hand and sitting down with her, back on the bed. Catelyn is too shocked to do anything, even as the beautiful girl speaks in a sympathetic tone.

"Lady Stark… Ned and I… he was the second son who made love to me beneath the heart tree, all those moons ago. You… you were the beautiful young noblewoman promised to Brandon Stark, heir to Winterfell. It is only bad luck that has pitted us against one another… but I did not come to Winterfell to steal your life from you. And I did not come to your room to talk about the new Lord Stark. I came to talk about us."

And then, before Catelyn can even begin to formulate a response, Ashara's lips are on hers. The red-haired Tully's eyes go wide at the sudden intimacy, even as Ashara begins to kiss her like she's never been kissed before. There's more than a bit of tongue involved, as Catelyn sits there, mostly frozen. She'd like to say she was completely frozen… but it wouldn't be true, as about partway through she found herself participating in the surprise kiss.

Eventually, Ashara pulls back and gives her a wide, open smile. There's honesty in those gorgeous violet eyes, even as the girl squeezes Catelyn's hand, which she's still holding even now.

"I liked that… I liked that a lot. And I think you did too."

"I… buh… wha…"

Speechless, Catelyn just stares at the other woman, completely derailed from her anger and her distrust and her budding hatred. All she can do is watch Ashara as the beautiful girl finally let's go of her hand and stands, giving her one last smile before heading for the door.

Unthinking, Catelyn abruptly stands as well, and reaches out with that same hand.

"W-Wait!"

The Dornish woman does so, stopping and turning back to look at her. Unsure of exactly what she's doing, Catelyn still can't fight the feeling budding in her chest. She knows one thing that she very much wants, and in the end that's what the confused red head vocalized.

"Don't… don't go."

A bright smile spreads across Ashara's face and she moves back into the room, even as a warm feeling fills Catelyn's breast. She's never been more confused, more conflicted… but it feels right, when Ashara sits back down with her, and the two women hold hands once again. It feels right, even as it feels so, so wrong…

-x-X-x-

Ned waits a few days to confront his lady wife. At first, he just wants to give Catelyn time to cool off. But when she doesn't go to his bed as the days go by, Ned can't help but be a little insulted. He IS still Lord of Winterfell after all, and though she might be Lady, she needed to learn that her allegiance and her obedience belonged to HIM. If he wanted Ashara and Lyarra to live in Winterfell, damn it, that was his right! And on top of that, it was the honorable thing to do!

Of course, he hadn't seen much of Ashara these past few days either. That was more understandable, all things considered. The beautiful Dornish woman was fairly conscious of the upset she'd caused by her and their daughter's mere presence in Winterfell. Still, Ned had come to the same conclusion Ashara had, albeit a bit belatedly. If he could get Catelyn to accept the other woman's place in their household, then he could get his bannermen to do the same, and the unrest budding in Winterfell would come to a stop.

That was why he was finally approaching his wife's bedchambers. That was why he was entering them without knocking, in order to prove a point about every inch of this castle being HIS. Of course, whatever Ned might have said dies on his tongue as he takes in the sight before him. Catelyn and Ashara are on the former's bed, kissing quite passionately when he barges in, and Ned gets a full view of this, before they break apart at the sudden sound of his entrance.

Catelyn looks mortified, while Ashara's shock quickly morphs into a wicked little smile that always told Ned she was up to no good. His cock immediately begins to stiffen in his pants as he sees that smile, and judging by Ashara's glance down at his crotch, she knows it too.

"M-my Lord! This… this isn't what it looks like!"

"Oh hush Cat, it's exactly what it looks like. Don't be a prude now, not after all the work we've done. My Lord… like what you see?"

Catelyn looks read to protest, but Ned preempts her as he steps forward and begins to undo the ties on his shirt and his breeches.

"I do. I like it very much. My wife and my lover… getting along so well."

Ashara's grin grows wider still, and Catelyn's eyes bulge out of her skull as she blushes deeply. The Lady of Winterfell doesn't speak another word though, even as Ned strips down and Ashara begins to do the same… starting with Cat. Whimpering slightly, Lady Stark allows the other noblewoman to pull at her garments, exposing her shapely, curvy Tully body to Ned's eyes. His own arousal is made evident when he finally pulls his smallclothes off, in turn exposing his large cock to both women.

Neither is exactly surprised to see it of course, as both have already had him by this point. Still, Catelyn gulps at his size while Ashara coos happily and spreads her bedmate's legs wide. Ned can see the slit between his lady wife's legs, and with such an open and obvious invitation, the Lord of Winterfell crawls onto the bed and takes up position between Cat's thighs.

He leans down and kisses his wife deeply, even as his cock slowly pierces the woman's cunt, sliding deeper and deeper into her core. A low, lust-filled moan presses against his lips as he captures her mouth, and Catelyn's legs slide around his waist, pulling him ever closer. Ashara watches on from the side, and even as Ned begins to thrust slowly into Lady Stark, he breaks away from her for a moment to give the violet eyed Dayne a quick kiss as well.

From there, the threesome proceeds quickly. It starts out rather loving… until Catelyn surprised both Ashara and Ned by asking for him to go harder. Then, it becomes a fuck, a rut, and together, with Ashara playing with Cat's tits and Ned fucking her cunt, they bring the Lady Stark to climax after climax. And when Ned subsequently blows his load and pulls out, Catelyn is quick to reach down and stroke his softening pecker back to full hardness.

Not for herself, oh no… instead, she presses Ashara down onto the bed and guides her husband's erect member into his lover's slit, effectively helping them fuck, right in front of her. In that moment, the prudish noble girl that had arrived at Winterfell almost a year ago, effectively dies. She's replaced by a young woman who's had her mind opened to possibilities she'd never thought of before.

And ultimately, as Catelyn Stark allows herself to be led into deeper and deeper debauchery by her two lovers, she decides that she likes this better than the old way of thinking. Ashara Dayne does not have to be her enemy. Lyarra Snow will never be a threat to her son. In the end, they're going to be one, big, happy family.

The next morning, when Ashara sits at Catelyn's side in the castle's Hall, eating right alongside the Lady of Winterfell, everyone sees and takes note. The two women are as thick as thieves from that moment on, and Ned seems equal parts pleased and afraid by the way the beautiful girls are getting along. After all, now that they've settled their differences, they can provide a united front against him, when he does something that displeases either of them.

It takes a while for Ned to figure this out, but when he does, he ultimately comes to the conclusion that it's better than the alternative, by far.

 **-x-X-x-**

 **If you'd like to read more of my work not seen on this website, check out H entai-Foundry dot com and Questionable Questing dot com! I'm known as 'Cambrian' on those websites.**

 **If you'd like to contribute to funding my writing at all, check me out on P atreon. com (slash) Cambrian**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

"You will never be Queen."

She knew that already of course. Sitting in her father's chambers in the Red Keep, Cersei looks across the man's desk at Lord Lannister himself. She tries her best to keep her face completely blank. The young woman has already shed her tears. She's already broken things, she's already raged at the unfairness of it all.

The worst part was that she'd allowed herself to hope. Lyanna Stark had been taken and sullied by Rhaegar Targaryen. Not only that, she'd been spirited away to Dorne of all places. There were so many ways things could have gone that would have worked out better for the Lannisters… for HER. Instead, the worst-case scenario had come to pass. Lyanna had come back alive and Robert had forgiven her for Rhaegar's crimes.

The sullied woman would become Queen. She would take up her place at Robert Baratheon's side, forever stealing away what SHOULD have been Cersei's.

"You knew that already of course."

Cersei blinks as her father unknowingly parrots back her earlier thoughts. She focuses a bit more on Tywin's face, and she stiffens at the disapproval she sees in his eyes. So then, he noticed her lack of attention. Keeping her expression stony, Cersei nods her head ever so slightly, in acknowledgment that she'd heard him.

"What you probably don't know is that Jaime has been released from his duties on the Kingsguard. In recognition of his heroic defense of King's Landing, Robert is giving my heir back to me."

Her eyes go wide at that, and for a moment she feels hope again. But then she takes note of the way her father is speaking. The way he uses 'me' instead of 'us'. For the first time, Cersei speaks, her voice more hesitant, more unsure than she would have liked.

"Then… I would request that I be allowed to accompany you back to Casterly Rock. Surely there's nothing left for me here."

The disappointed look her father gives her causes the young blonde to bristle. Her stony expression melts away as she frowns at Tywin. He just shakes his head.

"There is plenty left for you here girl, if you bothered to open your eyes and look for it. You will not be departing from King's Landing with us. You will stay. Hopefully, as the betrothed to Stannis Baratheon."

Cersei's eyes go wide again for the second time in so many minutes.

"What?! That… that grim BOY?!"

It's Tywin's turn to set his face in stone as he stares her down.

"You would do well to remember you are naught but a girl yourself, my very young daughter. Stannis Baratheon is our way into the new Dynasty. You will never be Queen, but it is possible for you to become a member of the royal family. Seduce the King's younger brother. Robert is likely to give Stannis Storm's End. At the very least, you will be the Lady of a Castle."

Her father is serious. Cersei can see that in the Lord of Casterly Rock's eyes. She considers what she has seen and heard so far of Stannis Baratheon. Dour and stoic to a fault. Immensely stubborn as well, if the reports were to be believed. He'd never surrendered to the Reach's armies. He'd held Storm's End for the entirety of his brother's rebellion. Father was right about that at least; the King would be an utter fool NOT to reward his brother with the very castle that Stannis had worked so hard to defend.

Only a monster would deny Stannis his right, especially now that Robert sat upon the throne. With that said… Cersei knew she wasn't getting out of this. Stannis was to be her last chance, and while she could botch the entire arrangement, purposefully fail in such a spectacular way that father HAD to take her home when he and Jaime left for the Rock, she knew Tywin Lannister all too well.

The young woman wouldn't put it past him to have her sent to the Silent Sisters, and if he didn't go that far, whatever marriage he did inevitably arrange for her would be swift and insulting. Probably to one of his lesser bannermen. Cersei Lannister was a beautiful young woman. She was supposed to be Queen, but at the very least, she would NEVER settle for being traded away to a Lannister bannerman for their loyalty.

Her place was higher than that. Still, that didn't mean she had to like it. And it didn't mean she had to show her father an ounce of respect now that she had her marching orders. With a vindictive sort of satisfaction, Cersei stands and whirls out of the Lannister Patriarch's office, stalking away from the man without another word, striding free of the room and feeling as if a weight had been lifted from her chest.

It was good, getting away from her father. The man had failed to get her a crown after all. She could barely stand the sight of him now. Lady of Storm's End… at the very least that would afford Cersei some of the power she rightly deserved.

-x-X-x-

He wasn't sure how it had happened. No, that wasn't entirely true. As he smashes his lips against Cersei Lannister's, kissing the blonde quite heatedly and aggressively, Stannis Baratheon knows exactly how this happened. It was all this blonde wench's fault, quite clearly. With a growl, the young man pushes the equally young woman back deeper into the shadowy alcove he'd forced her into.

Cersei lets him do so, her hands outright clawing at his expensive garments as she kisses him back just as aggressively. But then, of course. The Lioness had clearly decided this was going to happen from the moment she caught sight of him at Robert's wedding. Perhaps even before that, because when he'd caught sight of her, he'd immediately known she was going to be trouble.

After the ceremony was done and the feast had begun, the Lannister girl hadn't left him alone for even a second. She'd managed to mask it well enough that no one really paid much attention to him, but Stannis was no fool. She spent the rest of the feast wearing him down, teasing him, cutting at his stoicism.

In the end, the young man WAS still a young man. He'd wanted to put on a brave face, especially at his brother's wedding. He'd wanted to show those assembled that he was strong, that the Baratheons were still strong. Especially the Tyrells, that fat bastard Mace daring to show his face at the royal proceedings after he'd starved half of Storm's End…

Stannis knew why Robert had to pardon the obese prick. Intellectually at least. But behind his stony façade, the younger Baratheon wished that he could see the Tyrells' lands and titles ripped from them. He would have liked to have Mace's head on a silver platter, if he was being honest. Or perhaps, perhaps starve the fat bastard until he was nothing but skin and bones.

That anger and rage and hatred resting beneath the surface was also part of why Stannis was where he was now. As Cersei's hands slide down to the drawstring of his britches, working to extricate his cock from its confines, Stannis recognizes that he's not completely in control of his own actions… and he just doesn't care. The Lannisters weren't involved with the Tyrells, but they were technically loyalists, right until the end came.

Perhaps he could get a bit of much-needed satisfaction out of the Lannister girl, since she was offering. Cersei lets out a gasp as she finally takes hold of his cock and pulls it out. Stannis glances down between them, fearing she'd seen something wrong with his pecker, but as far as he could tell, it looked the same as always.

"… It's so big…"

That gets a lifted eyebrow from the young Baratheon. But it's clear that Cersei isn't going to make a move, as she just stands there, staring down at his dick still in her hand. With a growl, Stannis grabs the blonde woman by the hips and lifts her up, setting her on the windowsill right behind her. The drapes behind them swish a little, but when Stannis presses a hand down into Cersei's thigh, the blonde highborn spreads her legs wide without complaint.

She's still staring at his cock though, even as he pushes her dress up more and more. Once its bunched around her waist, Stannis continues on, grabbing at her smallclothes and all but tearing them off of her. He needs this. Not even realizing that he's doing all the work at this point, Stannis still goes for the kill nonetheless. Cersei covers her own mouth with her hand as he spears forward into her cunt, proving she has something of a mind between her ears when a loud moan ends up muffled a moment later by her palm.

With the revelry going on in the feast only feet away from them, no one is going to hear a few stifled cries of pleasure. Stannis' eyes flash as he drills his cock deep into the blonde girl's cunt. She's not a virgin, or at least, she has no barrier to break. Some don't though, Stannis remembers that from his lessons with the Septa. Horseback riding… was Cersei a rider? The thought didn't excite Stannis too much. He preferred travel by ship rather than travel by horse.

Was she much of a sailor? Why was he even thinking about these kinds of things? Growling, Stannis tears Cersei's hand away from her mouth and replaces it with his lips, even as he slides his fingers through her own, their palms pressing together. As they hold hands on one side, his other hand slides down around her, moving under her to grasp at her back side. Holding her by her rump, Stannis begins to move forward, stifling Cersei's subsequent cries and moans with his mouth over her own as they kiss heatedly, passionately.

They fuck. There's no other word for it. This is not lovemaking, this is not romance. It's not slow or sensual or gentle. Stannis fucks Cersei Lannister with all the power he can muster, pounding her, face to face, her toes inches off the ground, her legs shaking and trembling. Her eyes are locked with his, and his are locked with hers. He can't seem to look away from her in that moment. There's something so very delicious about her hungry, haughty gaze.

When she cums however, she loses some of that haughtiness and Stannis finds in that moment that he enjoys that more than when she has it. He fucks her harder, and she reaches yet another orgasm as his lips keep her yells from reaching the feast behind them. Seeing a win condition, so to speak, Stannis fucks Cersei Lannister senseless, plowing her for what feels like an eternity, until her eyes are fluttering shut and her tongue is barely responsive against his own anymore.

Her pussy is still quite responsive though, the Lannister's cunt tightening around his pistoning prick in such a way that it's almost impossible for him to hold back any longer. He cums hard as well, his seed flooding into Cersei's womb, even as the blonde's legs tighten around his waist. And that's when Stannis realizes why he found himself wondering if the woman was a sailor.

He's going to marry this broad. Whether he wants to or not, whether he even remotely likes her or not… this wasn't something he could walk away from. She'd goaded him into it, but he'd made the decision to fuck her in this alcove, and pump even seed to surely plant a baby in her womb. As he pulls back from her, both his mouth and his cock, Cersei slowly recovers, her chest heaving and her face red as she looks him in the eye.

However, the victorious, conniving grin on her face is slightly marred by just how exhausted she looks. Even as she basks in her triumph, her eyes are heavily lidded. Snorting derisively, Stannis leans in and takes one last deep, domineering kiss from the blonde girl, and when he pulls back this time, she's not looking nearly as triumphant.

It takes them both a bit to get presentable again, Cersei longer than him. Luckily, her smallclothes and her floor length dress do an excellent job of concealing the white, sticky seed leaking from betwixt her slightly agape lower lips. The duo re-enters the feast together, and neither is particularly paying attention to the things around them when Cersei leans up and gives Stannis a kiss on the cheek.

It's chaste, compared to what they'd just been doing… but it's also SEEN.

"Brother!"

The hall goes quiet as all eyes go to the High Table, where Robert is suddenly standing, goblet in hand and gaze directed towards Stannis. All eyes turn to HIM as they realize their king is about to address his brother. Stannis in turn freezes up of course, not sure exactly what Robert is going to do. Beaming, King Robert Baratheon comes down from where he's standing, making his way through the crowded hall as people create a path for him.

To everyone's surprise, most of all Stannis', Robert outright HUGS him upon closing the distance between them. It's a full body bear hug, and then it becomes a one-armed hug as the King looks out around the hall.

"My brother, Stannis Baratheon! He held Storm's End for me while I was away breaking that bastard Rhaegar's face! And he took care of our little brother Renly at the same time! Stannis Baratheon is the most stalwart brother a man could ever ask for! A rock in an ever-tumultuous ocean! And now it seems he's proved himself manly enough to catch the distinguished eye of Cersei Lannister herself!"

There's laughter and cheering and even some jeering at that, as both Stannis and Cersei go incandescent. Meanwhile, Robert goes back in for another hug, and only his brother and the Lannister girl can hear what he has to say next.

"I'm proud of you, Stannis. I'm proud of you, and I love you so very much. Thank you, brother, for being there to protect our family's seat when I could not."

Only Cersei catches sight of Stannis' tight, tearful smile and surreptitiously, she slips her hand back into his and gives it a comforting squeeze, even as the feast continues on around them, even more jubilant than before.

Mission accomplished, she supposed.

 **-x-X-x-**

 **If you'd like to read more of my work not seen on this website, check out H entai-Foundry dot com and Questionable Questing dot com! I'm known as 'Cambrian' on those websites.**

 **If you'd like to contribute to funding my writing at all, check me out on P atreon. com (slash) Cambrian**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

This… this was not how she expected to return to King's Landing. And yet, as Rhaella Targaryen arrives in the city as an honored guest, she can't quite help but be happy that things turned out this way. The beautiful, violet eyed woman walks with her head held high, her newborn cradled in the crook of her left arm, and her son's small hand clasped firmly by her right.

"Viserys… what I have told you?"

The young dragon beside her glances about, more than a little afraid. At five years old, he hadn't lived long enough, experienced long enough, to really have an opinion about anything at all. Rhaella could imagine a world where he would grow up hateful and spiteful. A world where perhaps she died in childbirth, and their last remaining loyal subjects squirreled her children away from Westeros entirely, to protect them from the Usurper.

That had not occurred, however. Negotiations had been had. Rhaella had not expected it, but Robert Baratheon, the new King of the Seven Kingdoms, had turned out to be more reasonable than her late husband… by far. And thus, here they were, to bend the knee to the man who'd slew her son, Viserys' brother… but Rhaella could not find it in her heart to truly hate over Rhaegar's death.

She would mourn him forever, but her son had grown up and made mistakes. He'd led to his own ruin, right alongside his father. If she could avoid that with Viserys, she would. Swallowing thickly beside her, the boy in question finally answers in a quiet, subdued tone.

"We are to bow and p-pledge loyalty to the new King m-mother. And I am not to refer to h-him as the Usurper…"

Rhaella smiles softly.

"Good boy."

That isn't to say it hadn't taken her quite a bit of effort to get Viserys to where he was now over the last few months. Five was still old enough to be impressionable, and the boy had grown up spoiled. And that was a nice way of describing it. Still, Rhaella loved her children. She would do anything to protect them. Even if that meant teaching them the hard way.

Quite suddenly, the large double doors before them open up. They are announced, and the entire court turns towards them as Rhaella begins to move forward. With her head held high, but unadorned of any crown, the beautiful Targaryen woman looks absolutely regal nonetheless, even with a babe in the crook of her arm and a young child at her side.

Robert Baratheon, as it turns out, has grown from the boy she met in passing years ago, to a bear of a man. Beside her, she hears Viserys' quiet, sharp intake of breath, and knows the boy is all the more cowed by the Baratheon's appearance, even as the man sits on the Targaryen throne. But it is not the Targaryens' any longer, and so long as Viserys doesn't make a scene, Rhaella has every hope that they will escape this with their heads on their shoulders.

Her children will be safe, and that is all that matters.

"Lady Rhaella. Lord Viserys. Lady Daenerys. Approach the throne."

The Baratheon King's voice rings out, deep and rich and complex. He does not roar, but he is heard by everyone in the throne room nonetheless. Rhaella is ever so slightly bolstered by the way his voice softens slightly when he speaks her daughter's name, despite the baby being too young to do much more than look around inquisitively and sleep at this point.

As they finally come to a stop beneath the Iron Throne, Rhaella descends to her knees, and Viserys does so with her. Together, they bow their heads in supplication, even as she makes sure to keep Daenerys safe in the crook of her arm. There is silence in the court for a long moment, as if everyone is holding their breath. After a moment, Rhaella realizes this is probably true. She knows she is, after all.

Finally, the Grandmaester speaks and the pomp and ceremony begins as he asks them to affirm their allegiance to their King. Rhaella does so, and to her great relief, Viserys does the same beside her, mimicking her words with his head down and his eyes on the ground. Her little dragon had become so very docile, and under other circumstances Rhaella might have regretted that. The loss of innocence… but under these, she knew they had to stay alive. And the Baratheon King's negotiations had been more than fair.

As everything wraps up and Rhaella and Viserys are bid to stand, Robert does the same. He speaks to the room, rather than to them, but his words fill Rhaella with joy nonetheless.

"The sins of the father need not stain his children, nor his wife. Their dynasty is at an end, but the remaining members of House Targaryen have proved themselves reasonable people. I will not see them destroyed because of a Mad King and a Rapist Prince. Viserys Targaryen will be Lord of Dragonstone when he comes of age. Rhaella Targaryen and Jon Arryn will be wed and share regency over the island until Viserys is a man grown. This is my decree. Let it end with Aerys' death. I will not see anyone take vengeance on the children."

And like that, its over. Rhaella isn't sure what to do, as court comes to an end and people begin to leave. But then Elia is there, and if nothing else, the Martell woman is a more familiar face than half these people that the new Baratheon King surrounds himself with. The other half being the traitors and vultures who sold her family over in the first place for a piece of the pie…

Elia is most obviously pregnant, but Rhaella doesn't comment on that… at least at first. Hours later, once Viserys and Daenerys are both sound asleep, the former Queen can't help but ask the obvious. Elia tenses for a moment, and then seems to simply decide to own it, smiling casually as she sits beside Rhaella on the bed, one hand on her bulging abdomen.

"It's Robert's, of course."

Rhaella's eyes go wide, but deep down inside, she had known it was something of that sort. For a moment, there's silence, and its clear that Elia isn't sure whether or not she's about to be judged. After the moment passes, Rhaella lets out a sigh and gives the younger woman a smile.

"I'm glad for you, my dear. May you find happiness, in your new life."

Elia smiles back, pleased with Rhaella's reaction. After a moment, Rhaella continues, slightly more mournful.

"If only my son had not been as bad a husband as his father. I had high hopes for the boy… for our family. Aerys was a monster, he merely grew less and less capable of hiding it as the years went by. But Rhaegar? My dear Rhaegar? I hope you'll forgive me for feeling sentimental. I'd truly thought that the Crown Prince would fix the mistakes of his father… not compound them."

Rather than judge her mother-in-law, Elia reaches out and places a hand over Rhaella's, squeezing reassuringly.

"He was a good man to me, at least at first. But… in the end, the madness consumed him as well. It will be up to you to make sure it does not consume Viserys… Daenerys."

Rhaella's back straightens up at that as she catches the hidden meaning in Elia's words. The unspoken message 'or else Robert will have to end them' is loud and clear, hanging in the air. The other woman is not wrong though, and after a moment Rhaella deflates, her shoulder slumping as she nods her head.

"Yes. I will do my best, you know I will. I can only hope that Viserys is young enough to change."

With a reassuring smile on her face, Elia bobs her head up and down in agreement.

"There is Jon to consider, as well. The Lord Arryn certainly did something right with our new King and Eddard Stark, did he not? Perhaps you can lean on him for support. It will be a strange thing, being able to do that with your husband after so long with… Aerys… but I think you should do your best to learn."

Rhaella bites her lower lip at that. Jon Arryn… yes, her new husband. The man would still be spending the majority of his time in the Vale, but he would also be making routine trips to Dragonstone, to assist her with the regency that was to come. And tomorrow they would be wed in the Great Sept, and she would have her second husband.

It was not usually something that was done. Rhaella would have accepted the Silent Sisters if it kept her son and daughter alive and well. But Robert had been more generous than that… more savvy as well. Despite her looks and her name, Robert or perhaps Jon himself, had sussed out the fact that, out of everyone in the Seven Kingdoms, none hated what the Targaryen Dynasty had become quite as much as Rhaella.

There were those who had potentially suffered more… but she'd sat in the center of her House's machinations for too many long years to feel anything but disgust for it all. As such, she truly would be the perfect regent for her children, as Robert and Jon had apparently decided. Rhaella would not allow any loyalists that remained to poison the minds of her babies with thoughts of taking back the Iron Throne.

She would raise Viserys to be a Lord, and Daenerys to be a Lady. House Targaryen would live on, but it was Rhaella's fondest wish that her family never rule Westeros, ever again. Jon… Jon Arryn would be helpful there, yes. With a slight smile on her face, Rhaella nods to Elia.

"You're right, of course. He can't be worse than Aerys, now can he?

Elia chuckles at that and rubs her fingers into Rhaella's skin.

"I think you should aim for a bit more than that… but yes, I highly doubt he could be."

Rhaella joins Elia in chuckling, and without even realizing she had them in the first place, the former Queen finds her worries over her impending nuptials fading away.

-x-X-x-

Just like that, she's married. It was rather crazy, how time could pass so swiftly. The ceremony had dragged a bit, but the feast had been a whirlwind of events. Now though, they were alone. Rhaella Targaryen, last living adult to House Targaryen, stood in the bedchambers of one Lord Jon Arryn of the Vale. The man was not… unappealing. While his age showed, it did not show like it had on Aerys. Jon was not decrepit, or hunchbacked. Nor was he wrinkly and mad-eyed.

No, as the man approaches her, Rhaella can't help but find him quite… distinguished. What follows is a surprisingly tender kiss, and all she receives after that is more of the same. Her hands come up to rest on Jon's chest, even as he slowly, almost lovingly even, divests her of her dress and smallclothes. It takes time, but he gets there. It certainly takes longer than Aerys would have. But then, Rhaella is only finding out what she already knew. Jon Arryn is no Mad King.

When he finishes exposing her, the man presses his palm against the curve of her breast, running his fingers over her soft, pliable chest. Rhaella's breath hitches. It's the first time in her life that a sexual touch has not also been a rough, aggressive, violent one. And in the end, it means the world to her. In that moment, Rhaella realizes she does not have to be a spectator in her own sexual encounter.

Every move Jon makes invites her to reciprocate, and once Rhaella sees this, she can't help but do so. Divesting him of his own clothes does not see him flying into a rage and hitting her. Touching him does not provoke him to skip the foreplay, bend her over, and fuck her standing up right then and there. They explore one another, and Rhaella can't help but be in awe of the mutual respect as she runs her fingers over the aged Lord's body, even as he does the same with his fingers on hers.

Eventually, they end up on the bed. But Rhaella is not thrown there, not tossed on by a man with only lust and anger and spite running through his veins. Jon lays her back, and the Targaryen can't help but spread her legs for him as he slips between them carefully, gently. His member, more than erect by this point, pauses nonetheless at her opening. Rhaella bites her lower lip as he looks up into her eyes questioningly.

Even that much is… more than she's ever gotten. Nodding her head in silent approval, Rhaella watches as Jon slowly pushes forward, filling her with his length. It's… it's good. It may just very well be the first pleasurable sexual experience she's ever had. The more he moves, the more Rhaella enjoys it, and as Jon makes sweet, sweet love to her, the former Queen can't help but wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a deep, passionate kiss.

Their copulation lasts quite a while. Rhaella experiences an orgasm at the hands of a man for the first time in her life. And when Jon finally reaches his own release, it's not some pathetic panting sort of thing as he wheezes atop her. The aged Lord grunts once, and then she feels it, his hot seed painting her insides.

Its everything Rhaella never knew she wanted. And when Jon pulls out a moment later and instead of rolling away, continues to hold her close, the Targaryen woman realizes that it's everything she ever needed as well.

After decades of suffering and sadness, Rhaella Targaryen… is finally at peace.

 **-x-X-x-**

 **If you'd like to read more of my work not seen on this website, check out H entai-Foundry dot com and Questionable Questing dot com! I'm known as 'Cambrian' on those websites.**

 **If you'd like to contribute to funding my writing at all, check me out on P atreon. com (slash) Cambrian**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

He never would have seen himself here, not in a million years. Oh sure, there'd been a time when Jaime Lannister had been raised as his father's heir. His twin sister certainly wasn't going to become Lord of Casterly Rock, and his little brother the dwarf was even less likely to gain the title. Jaime Lannister, firstborn son to Tywin and Joanna Lannister, was the only one who could truly become Lord Paramount of the Westerlands.

Until King Aerys declared him Kingsguard. It was a great honor, to be sure. It was also an attack on his father, one even Jaime recognized as such. To be Kingsguard was to be landless and without any other title. To be Kingsguard was to be spouseless, and childless. And all of this… for life. It was a great honor… and also something that neither Jaime nor Tywin in his stead could refuse. The King spoke, and just like that the Westerlands' succession was in peril, Tywin was abruptly without a proper heir save for a dwarf boy with a propensity for books.

Jaime had felt for his father. He truly had. Amusingly enough though, Tywin had born with it, accepting the insult without action. Oh sure, his father probably had some idea of how to take revenge for Aerys' slight, but the war that followed, Robert's Rebellion as they now called it, that had nothing to do with the Lannisters. Not until the end at least, when Aerys started ranting about wildfire and burning everything to ash. Jaime had stepped in, and the King and his Hand had died by Jaime's sword.

He wasn't expecting to be praised for it. He wasn't even sure exactly why he'd done it. Was he simply afraid of death? Wildfire was certainly a bad way to go if nothing else. Maybe he'd wanted to save the city. Jaime couldn't say for certain. There were certainly people in Aerys' court that he found pleasant enough. He'd never much cared for the smallfolk though. It wasn't like he actively despised them or anything… they were just so far beneath his notice.

Regardless, one way or another, Jaime had made his decision. He'd slewed the Mad King. He'd killed the Grand Master of the Alchemists' Guild and ended the immediate threat posed to the city. And when Robert had led his armies to the throne room, he'd been awaiting the Usurper with a wane smile on his face and blood on his sword.

He really, truly hadn't expected praise for his deeds. And yet, Robert had proved shrewder than anyone, or at least Jaime, could have suspected. The Baratheon Lord had drawn out the truth of matters from him. And in the end, when all was said and done, and Tywin had arrived to swear fealty to Robert, the new King had gone a step further and released Jaime from his oaths, removing him from the Kingsguard.

The young man hadn't known what to think of that. It hadn't come cheaply of course. It hadn't actually been that simple. Robert had ordered Tywin to quell the Tyrells first and foremost. Only once the Lord Lannister had proved his loyalty did the new King Baratheon release Jaime from his bondage. And honestly, that WAS how he saw it now. There might have been a time where he would have been insulted at being released from the Kingsguard.

Even if Jaime understood that his appointment was less an honor and more a gilded cage as the Mad King used him as a pawn against his father, there was still something to be said about being Kingsguard. And something far less kind to be said about being one of the very few over the centuries to be dismissed from the prestigious knightly order, rather than dying with the white cloak on their shoulders, as so many had before them.

But he was happy now. Happier than he'd been in a long time. Happier than he honestly thought he ever could be. It might have had something to do with the gushing wet cunt pressed against his face. Or the massive tits wrapped around his throbbing cock. Hell, the tongue and lips on his balls certainly didn't hinder his enjoyment of the situation.

Jaime had a smile on his face, even as he gripped the pleasingly plump posterior right in front of him with both hands. Its owner moans wantonly as he kneads her fat ass, and she squirms and writhes atop his face as his tongue dives deep into her wet, velvety depths. Jaime is quite happy with the reactions of his new wife. How can he not be? Lysa Tully, now Lady Lannister of Casterly Rock, is a needy, eager-to-please little thing, and she seems absolutely enamored with his cock.

But then, she'd told him herself that it was the biggest one she'd ever seen. He would have thought her lying, if not for the wide eyes and the reverent tone as she stared at his member the night of their wedding, their very first bedding. But no, Jaime had gotten quite good at reading people during his years as Aerys' Kingsguard. Once you learned how to tip toe around insanity such as the Mad King's, normal people were delightfully transparent.

Lysa was not lying to him. She did not fake her enjoyment of his cock or his tongue. And Jaime… Jaime was left quite pleased with his secret trysts with his sister, as they left him prepared and experienced to welcome the sexually active and thoroughly insatiable red-haired Tully with open arms. Heh, Cersei… he would more than likely never fuck his twin sister, ever again.

The thought caused Jaime to feel a strange mix of things. He couldn't quite put it all into words. Cersei was his first. Unlike with his and Lysa's first bedding, passion-filled and extremely enthusiastic as it had turned out to be, Jaime's and Cersei's first time had been awkward to say the least. Cersei was certainly tighter than Lysa had been when they first fucked, but that didn't make plowing the curvy beauty any less pleasurable.

On top of that, Cersei had always been a bony thing, growing up. Her skinny body was enjoyable in its own way, especially since it was the only type of woman Jaime had ever known. Now that he knew the joy one could find in Tully curves… well, Jaime had quickly learned he was a tits and ass man, both of which Cersei had of course… but not in such quantities as his new bride had.

Not to mention, Cersei was always rather… rough. She was an aggressive girl that grew into an aggressive woman and being her twin and lover didn't protect Jaime from that. He remembered quite clearly how her boney, skinny form would bump into him, how she would sometimes choke him or slap him, how she would roughly grab him by his cock and lead him off to the side, so she could get a quick shag.

It wasn't that Jaime hated those times with his sister. It was all the intimacy he'd ever known. Without a mother, and with a cold-hearted father like Tywin Lannister, Jaime was starved for affection. Cersei gave him that affection, even if it came with a healthy dose of derision heaped on top. Especially after he'd become Kingsguard and their times together became limited to whenever she could get father to let her visit King's Landing. Which was to say, not often given the kind of man Tywin was.

Ultimately though, Jaime had found something better. And with his sister now married to the middle Baratheon, he didn't see much of her anymore. She wrote to him once in a while, and Jaime in turn had young Tyrion write back for him, since he'd never been very good with his letters. But in the end, they were no longer inseparable.

Jaime liked to think they'd finally grown up… at least, he hoped Cersei had found love in Stannis Baratheon's arms. He knew for a fact that he'd found it with Lysa Tully. A grin spreads across the handsome Lannister's face and a moment later he's pushing up on Lysa's ass as he rises at the same time, causing the young, voluptuous red head to yelp as he almost up turns her.

Her face is already beneath his cock, in his balls. Her tits pressed around his member. Jaime doesn't mind as her legs wrap around his head to take some of the weight off of her own skull, even as he forces her upside down, his arms wrapping around her waist in response. Her pussy is still right in front of him, and Jaime happily leans in to continue ravenously eating it out.

Lysa doesn't raise a single word of protest, beyond her surprised squeaks and her pleasured moans. That's the biggest difference between her and Cersei. Lysa Tully is far more docile, far less of a lioness… but also more beautiful and cuddly than Jaime would consider of a trout. He didn't know what to really compare her to, when it came to animals. But then, perhaps every woman in the world DIDN'T need to somehow take after their house crest. Heh, perhaps a woman could be just that… a woman.

And there was no doubt in Jaime's mind that his new wife was ALL woman. As she cries out against his balls while worshipping them with her tongue, Jaime gets a face full of Lysa's pussy juices, her orgasm finally arriving. That's his cue to move on, and it takes the young man all of five seconds to flip Lysa around again, laying her out on the bed on her back as he grabs her by her ankles and pushes her legs up into the air, and then down towards her body.

This is probably his favorite position to take his curvy, voluptuous wife in. Lysa's fat ass is on full display, as are her lower holes. But then, at the same time so are her beautiful, bountiful breasts, smooshed together by her arms as he forces her legs further and further back. Lysa moans in delight when Jaime moves his cockhead to her dripping wet mound, her fattened, plump pussy lips completely exposed and vulnerable to what he intends to do next.

What that is, is rather obvious of course. He looks down into his beloved wife's eyes with smoldering intensity, and then without another word, he thrusts deep into her cunt, filling her with his cock. Lysa's mouth immediately opens up, forming into a small o, but no sound comes from her as she looks at him with such… such LUST in her eyes. Jaime wastes no time in beginning to fuck his curvaceous new wife. His cock pounds down into Lysa's cunt, and the half-folded woman quickly succumbs, noise once more leaving her throat as she moans and mewls rather pathetically, writhing and squirming beneath his powerful thrusts.

Jaime gives it to her as hard as he possibly can. Certainly harder than he ever gave it to his sister. But then Cersei was always rather controlling when they had sex. It was never like this… Jaime was heir to Casterly Rock though now. He had to learn to take control. A man who was led by his wife was no man at all… and Jaime preferred not to think about what that meant for a man who'd allowed himself to be led by his sister.

Ah, but Cersei might as well be a world away. It was only him and Lysa now. And as Jaime continued to fuck the beautiful woman beneath him, as he watched Lysa reach climax after climax at the end of his thick, impaling cock, he felt completely at peace. The past was in the past. Peace had finally come to Westeros with the end of the Targaryen Dynasty. And at the same time, peace had come to Jaime Lannister.

It's not long before it all comes to a head. Lysa's face, her tightening, milking inner walls. The way her beautiful, voluptuous body shakes and jiggles and bounces with his deep, powerful thrusts. Its really all too much. Jaime roars like a victorious lion as he fills Lysa with his seed for the umpteenth time since their first bedding, and her ecstatic cries join with his voice as her back arches and her womb takes in his cum, spurt after spurt of the white, sticky fluid coating her insides.

Jaime doesn't know if she's already pregnant by this point. He certainly wouldn't be surprised if she was. But until they have confirmation, they're going to make damn well sure that his seed eventually takes… and neither he nor Lysa minds the constant 'attempts' one bit. Panting heavily as he slowly catches his breath, Jaime pulls out of his beautiful wife and let's go of her ankles, her legs flopping down as she splays out on his bed in such a delightful way.

Plopping down beside her, Jaime grins as Lysa turns her head towards him. The two of them kiss, deeply, and then he pulls his wife close as they both drift off to sleep. The heir to Casterly Rock and his bride, a joining between two noble houses that would stand the test of time. The Lannister's power in the Westerlands was secure. And Jaime Lannister was completely and utterly content with his lot in life.

 **-x-X-x-**

 **If you'd like to read more of my work not seen on this website, check out H entai-Foundry dot com and Questionable Questing dot com! I'm known as 'Cambrian' on those websites.**

 **If you'd like to contribute to funding my writing at all, check me out on P atreon. com (slash) Cambrian**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: This is the final chapter of King Stag! Thanks for reading!**

 **-x-X-x-**

It had been a momentous day. But now night had fallen, and it was time for the evening events to take place. Grinning widely, King Robert Baratheon, first of his name, stands from his seat at the high table.

"I think it's just about time for the bedding ceremony, don't you lot?!"

A general cheer raises through the hall, even as Robert raises his goblet in the direction of the blushing groom and bridge. Prince Edward Baratheon, son to Robert and Lyanna, next to his new wife, Lady Jeyne Lannister, daughter of Jaime and Lysa. The joining of the Baratheon and Lannister Houses would bring about the same sort of prosperity and close ties that joining Baratheon and Stark had. Robert was sure of that.

As the right people make their way up to prepare both Edward and Jeyne for their bedding, Robert settles back into his seat, laughing and making merry, even as he enjoys the general atmosphere of the great hall. This moment, here and now… this is the culmination of all he's worked to build. Hopefully, his reign is remembered as a strong, just reign. He's done his best to build a dynasty and a legacy that his children can be proud of.

Of course, right now Robert was prouder of his heir than anything else. Edward took the bedding process with great aplomb, even as many a highborn lady groped at him while stripping him down to nothing. Of course, both he and Jeyne were long out of the hall before Robert had to see anything too outrageous of his son's body, but the ribbing jokes and the good cheer sounded from the corridors long after they left.

The feast continued on even with the departure of bride and groom, but things did begin to wind down nonetheless. Robert catches Jaime's eye and lifts his goblet in the direction of his new good brother, even as Jaime smiles and does the same. Of course, that's around the time that Elia appears by his side, leaning in to whisper in his ear, while giving Robert a nice, delectable view down her dress.

"My King, there is something that requires your… delicate touch."

Robert lifts a brow at that, but the main event is over anyways. No one will begrudge the King if he retires now. And Robert would be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued by what Elia was offering. Robert had been named a great many things in his life, but delicate was not one of them. Rising to his feet, the King of Westeros allows Elia to pull him away from the feast.

The pair make their way through the Red Keep's halls, until eventually they arrive at the royal quarters. Robert wasn't sure what to expect when they entered. Lyanna, he could have guessed at… but the other woman waiting for them did take him aback for a moment, he had to admit.

"Lady Tyrell…"

Margaery blushes a little, even as she rises from the table where she and Lyanna had been seated and talking. Lyanna rises as well, making her way over to Robert with a smile on her face. King and Queen kiss for a moment, and Robert can't help but snake a hand around to squeeze at his delicious she-wolf's ass, drawing a playful growl from the dark-haired woman even as she pulls back and gives him a smoky look.

"Y-Your Grace."

As their lips detach, Lyanna curls into Robert's side, speaking to him directly, though her voice is loud enough to be heard by everyone in the room.

"Robert. Margaery has a favor to ask of you… of us. Elia and I have already decided to give our consent. Now it simply comes down to you."

Robert grunts at that and stares Margaery in the eye for a moment before snorting derisively.

"You need an heir… so you came to me? Heh, can't say I'm overly surprised. Best to keep it in the family."

Margaery's eyes go wide at that, and it's clear that the beautiful young flower is absolutely shocked at Robert's blunt way of shooting right to the heart of the matter.

"I… you know?"

Lifting an eyebrow at that, Robert shrugs his shoulders.

"What, that my littlest brother is a poof? That he's happier in YOUR brother's bed than your own? Aye, I know. Regardless of Renly's proclivities, he's still my brother… and he's still a good man, no matter what those religious nuts might say about his lifestyle. He did his duty in marrying you… but I'd hoped he could do his duty in bedding you as well. I suppose that was too much to ask?"

Biting her lower lip, Margaery glances down at herself.

"We have tried to make it work multiple times, your grace. Even including my brother… but the seed will not take. It has been over a year now, and people are beginning to talk."

Robert grunts at that, moving free of Lyanna and Elia as he plants his fists on his hips.

"So, you've come to me then. And if Lyanna and Elia are alright with it… then so am I. Let's get on with it, shall we?"

Margaery blushes deeply once more and bobs her head up and down in agreement.

"As you say, your grace."

Robert moves towards the bed, even as Lyanna moves to join him. Elia in turn moves to Margaery, and the two older women assist both the King and his brother's lady wife in removing their garments, bit by bit. Once he's naked, Robert sits down on the edge of the royal bed, watching as Margaery fidgets in place. She's certainly beautiful, though it's the beauty of a maiden rather than a woman grown.

Over the years, the King has found he prefers a woman's beauty, rather than a maiden's. But this isn't for his own pleasure, even if he knows he probably will enjoy it all the same. Still, Elia and Lyanna are both so much… fuller in all the ways that matter, even as they too strip down. When Elia guides Margaery over and bids her to kneel, Robert finds himself studying the beautiful Martell woman, over the girl he's about to bed.

All the same, once Margaery's lips close over his cock, Robert does groan and pay the girl some attention. His fingers lace through her hair, even as he stares down into her eyes. She's eager to please, and quite enthusiastic, even as Elia guides her along, giving her advice here and there on how to best suck his cock. At the same time, Lyanna is behind him, kneeling on the bed as she rests her chin on his shoulder, her tits against his back.

Robert would have liked to say he never could have imagined things ending up like this. But in truth, he'd seen this coming from a mile away. His darling women were not nearly as sneaky as they thought they were. Nor was his littlest brother and that Knight of Flowers he was cavorting along with. In truth, Robert pitied Margaery… but it was good to see the Tyrell girl looking for a solution to her problem, rather than wallowing in despair and letting the issue fester.

For that alone, he would be happy to fulfill her request. After all, as King of Westeros, it was his duty to make sure the realm always remained stable.

"Gagkh… Gagkh… Gagkh…"

Margaery is beginning to gag on his prick now, as it grows bigger and bigger. At his full size, she's simply not able to take every last inch into her small mouth and down her tight throat. That's fine though, because Robert has no intention of putting his seed anywhere else BUT inside of that needy little womb of hers. Pulling her off of his cock with a grunt, Robert looks down, even as Margaery glances up with fretful eyes.

"A-Am… am I not pleasing you, your g-grace?"

Snorting derisively, Robert rolls his eyes.

"You're as good as can be expected, Tyrell. But I'm hard now, which means we move onto the main event. Get on the bed."

Flushing deeply in both trepidation and anticipation, Margaery does as she's told. Elia and Lyanna end up laying with the girl, both of them playing with the younger woman's body as they take her attention away from what's about to come, one after the other. Lyanna kisses Margaery deeply, before Elia guides the young Tyrell woman's mouth to her caramel chest.

Robert watches the insanely hot scene for a moment, before ultimately, he climbs onto the bed and kneels between Margaery's legs, spreading them wide and causing the young woman's breath to hitch as she immediately zeroes in on his cock, aimed at her tight little cunt. Bringing his fingers to her pussy lips, the King is gratified to find his partner wet and ready for him, even as nervous as Margaery looks.

Her tight little flower looks oh so small compared to his cock… but when he penetrates her, she's no virgin, her purity long since lost to one of the attempts by her husband, his brother, to impregnate her. Robert doesn't care. He's long past the days where he went around taking the purity of maidens as if he was collecting bounties. He much prefers an experienced woman's form at this point.

Regardless, his cock sinks into her inch by inch, despite the seemingly large size disparity. Margaery gasps for air as he fills her with his meat, and Robert watches her face contort into all sorts of interesting expressions throughout the process. In the end, his cockhead smacks against her cervix, and there he pauses for a moment, allowing the young Tyrell woman to recover herself somewhat.

Of course, Elia and Lyanna aren't above teasing the girl. Lyanna runs her hands through Margaery's wavy locks, while Elia slides her fingers down the Tyrell's taut belly, all the way to her navel, as if she's stroking Robert's cock right through Margaery's flesh.

"He's big, isn't he love? That's alright. You get used to it."

"Mm, at the same time, you never TRULY get used to it. Being fucked by the King of Westeros himself… it's a high honor, isn't it?"

Margaery whimpers and nods her head, words escaping her as she just stares at where she and Robert are joined. Deciding he's waited long enough, Robert pulls back and thrusts in again. The cry that he draws from the girl beneath him is cut off by Lyanna's lips, even as Elia lets out a quiet giggle. But Robert doesn't stop there. Once he's begun, there's no way he's going to so much as hesitate before he's finished.

Thrusting in and out of the Tyrell girl, the King of Westeros fucks Margaery into oblivion. His big, fat cock fills her again and again and again, and there's nothing she can truly do but take it. In that moment, she's simply a receptacle for his cock. Soon, she'll be a receptacle for his life-giving cum. Robert grunts and increases the pace at that thought. There's something to be said about fucking his own brother's cute young wife.

He'd never do it under any other circumstances, of course. He'd never fuck Cersei behind Stannis' back, for instance. Not only was that probably not good for his health, Stannis and Cersei had a very active love life indeed, with four children between them at this point. Yes, they were doing just fine together. This though? This was not a betrayal, this was assistance, in its own way.

And it's also immensely pleasurable. Fucking the hot young thing that is Margaery Tyrell brings Robert a strange sort of satisfaction, as he stares down into her face, watching her climax around his cock time and time again. Elia and Lyanna have their own fun with her, but ultimately, they're just side pieces at the moment. This is between him and Margaery, his cock pistoning in and out of her cunt with wild, reckless abandon.

And he's getting closer. As her tight inner walls cling to his shaft, as she squeezes down on him harder and harder, Robert knows it won't be long before he reaches his release. Might as well make it now. With a growl followed by a holler, the King of Westeros begins to cum deep inside of Lady Tyrell. He fills Margaery's womb with seed, painting her insides white with his cum.

He packs her to the brim with his ejaculate, and only once he's done cumming inside of her does he pull back, panting just a bit. Margaery is flushed with arousal and lust and panting as well much harder than he is. On top of that, she's covered in sweat as she stares up at him in no small amount of wonder.

"I didn't… I didn't know it could be like that."

Robert chuckles darkly, reaching out and caressing one of Margaery's small tits for the first time. He grins down at the girl, even as he very pointedly slaps his still-hard cock down on her leaking cunt.

"You're going to learn a lot of things from us, girl. We're far from done here."

Margaery swallows thickly, but when Robert turns her over, she's quick to move up onto her hands and knees, pressing her backside up against his crotch enticingly. A moment later, and he's fucking her from behind this time, railing into the young, nubile woman with all his might as Lyanna and Elia watch on with hooded eyes, touching themselves all the while.

He'd fuck the both of them next, he figured. But even when he fucked them, he'd be sure to leave the loads that they'd inevitably squeeze from his cock inside of the hot young thing currently impaled on his member. Margaery Tyrell wasn't leaving this room until Robert was absolutely sure that the tight little cunt was pregnant.

It was his duty after all. And he'd be sure to see it through.

 **-x-X-x-**

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